


Pandora's Box

by teaandcardigans



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Agnes POV, Angst, Comfort Sex, Episode Related, F/M, Gen, Mention of Character Death, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23139808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandcardigans/pseuds/teaandcardigans
Summary: Set during 1.6.In the wake of the murder of Bruce Maddox, Agnes finds herself wandering through the corridors of the La Sirena seeking an escape. She finds Captain Cristóbal Rios instead.Spoilers for 1.5 onwards.
Relationships: Agnes Jurati/Cristóbal Rios
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	Pandora's Box

_ "Aggie, Aggie." _

Agnes bolts upright from her bunk, her hair, sweaty and damp, clings to her skin as her heart pounds against her chest. She claps her hands over her ears in vain, desperate to drown out Maddox's pleas for help. But as hard as she tries she can't drown out the voice in her own mind. Haunting her, torturing her. A price she must pay for her actions. A price she deserves to pay.

She pulls the sheets from her body, feeling a momentary relief as the cooled air of the ship hits her skin. The thought of going back to sleep fills her with dread. What other tortures her mind, her conscience will concoct for her. But knowing that she has earnt every one of them.

The floor is cool against her bare feet as her legs swing over the edge of her bed. Usually, her sense of propriety and modesty would demand that she dress or at least shrug on a robe before leaving her quarters but she feels so outside of herself, of the norm, that she can't quite bring herself to care about something so trivial. She moves around the corridors, aimlessly, her fingers running across the cool metal, taking in the eerie quietness that consumes the ship.

Until thudding breaks through the quiet, from the direction of the mess hall and she is drawn towards it. It seems that she is not the only one who finds sleep so elusive this night.

She hadn’t been sure what exactly to make of the Captain when she had first arrived on the La Sirena. All the Captains that she had ever encountered back on Earth had had a certain bravado about them, a self-confidence that seemed to be almost a prerequisite for taking control of one of these great ships. 

And initially, she had thought, that their Captain fell into this category as well. Even the first time she had heard his voice boasting about ‘how expensive’ he was.

Until she saw something else there, behind the confident Captain at the helm of his ship, there was something else there and she hadn’t quite pinned down what it was yet. Not that she had ever been able to get the best read on people, preferring the artificial world. More predictable and certain, at least that was what she had believed. But she had heard whispers around the ship, mainly from the holograms that wore his face, expressing some concern for him, before he would quickly dismiss them, almost afraid that they may let something slip. 

And did she have something akin to a crush on their Captain? Perhaps. What she did know as she examined him from her safety in the shadows, was that her skin felt hot and her heartbeat became irregular in an almost textbook sign of arousal. 

There was a pressing need to act on those wants rising in her. And when he kicked the ball with force to send it flying in her direction in an act of frustration she found herself questioning that he was looking for a physical release as well. A decision made as she bends down to pick up the ball and stepping into his line of sight.

She notes the way his chest feels pressed against her own while she presses her lips against his. Warm, solid, strong. In direct contrast to herself. Small, weak, cold. Was that why they had chosen her. So small, so insignificant that she could slip through defences so easily. And once she had played her part, accumulated a debt that could never be repaid she would be easily disposed of.

He asks her again if she is okay as her eyes drift around the room unable to meet his afraid to find genuine concern behind them. Or that her own truth might show through ultimately leaving her mission unfinished and these sacrifices would mean nothing.

She wants so desperately to block it all out if only for a few hours. But Captain Rios isn't quite turning out to be the distraction she was hoping for. When they first closed the door to his captain quarters behind them, hearing the satisfying click of the lock, his hands tighten on her hips, directing her where he wants her and she allows herself to be directed, relinquishing some of her control.

But then the roughness of his fingers against her bare waist, the urgency of his lips against her own start to morph into something else. Fingers lightly tracing her skin, caressing her in a move that is much too tender, much too kind to be for her.

He brushes her hair away from her forehead as it falls over her eyes obstructing her vision just enough so that she can block out the emotions displayed so evidently that not even she can mistake them. Tucked behind her ear, before he cups her cheek in his palm, directing her to meet his eyes, and she is pushing her body against his, her hips grinding down a desperate attempt to direct ‘this’ back to something primal. Something that has no deeper meaning, no grand plan. Just two lonely souls finding physical comfort in one another. 

"Agnes," he murmurs against her neck as her fingers work to loosen his trousers, his hands stilling over hers to halt her movements. "Slow down," a chuckle from his lips that she can feel as it rumbles through his chest, "if you are hoping for a night of distraction." His lips press against her skin in a way she could only describe as 'loving'.

"You need to let me take my time with you." His fingers trace along her collar bone, slipping down her back, the light touch has her arching herself towards him, her lips seeking out his, her own movements slower, savouring the way he tastes, the hint of tobacco, alcohol on his tongue. 

She can feel the way her own responses are changing, how the thump of her heart is no longer due to the physical sensation of his lips travelling down her body, but instead to the way, it is making her feel. The comfort that it is providing is beyond just scratching an itch and if she allows herself to go any further, to feel anything more, there may be no coming back. 

"I can't," she lets out as she pulls back, almost losing her footing in her haste to retreat before he steadies her. His arm firmly wrapped around her, before loosening his grip allowing her the escape route she requires. She reaches over to grab her black tank from a bedside table where it landed in her rush to undress. She forcibly pulls it over her head her hands shaking as she pulls it down to cover her torso. She can feel his eyes on her watching her hurried movements. He opens his mouth but snaps it shut when he sees the look in her eyes. His hand that was outstretched, possibly to offer comfort, retreating back to his side. 

It would be one more regret, one more thing to atone for, another thing that she doesn’t deserve. 

As she returns to her own quarters, her fingers tracing her own lips she can’t shake the feeling that in her haste to find a momentary release and escape she may have just opened Pandora’s Box. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, this is my first forray into this fandom after binging the series. This came from the headcanon that the two of them didn't go 'all the way' that night, hence some of the awkwardness. I find Agnes such an interesting character and very interested to see what will happen next.


End file.
